


Ride It Like You Stole It

by SongsAboutBuckyy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur loses his heart, F/M, Pining Arthur, Protective Arthur, Quick oneshot, You Keep Arthur On His Toes, strong female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongsAboutBuckyy/pseuds/SongsAboutBuckyy
Summary: A trip to Saint Denis to play a little poker turns out to be more than Arthur bargained for when you see a fancy Turkoman stallion you can't live without.“You gotta ride it like you stole it, Arthur Morgan.” You grin at him."How come I'm always your husband when you start trouble? Why can't you pick on John for a day?"
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Reader, Arthur Morgan/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 103





	Ride It Like You Stole It

“Can’t take her anywhere. Causes a God damn scene everywhere she goes." Arthur grumbles, shaking his head as he complains to Hosea and John. 

"Last week in Valentine, I leave her for two minutes to play a game of poker, I turn around and she’s broken a bottle over a man’s head for gettin’ fresh, standin on the bar, wavin’ it around and threatenin’ to burn the whole town to the ground.” 

“My husband’s gonna kick your lily white ass!” John chuckled, remembering the shock on Arthur’s face when you’d pointed him out with the broken end of the bottle you held, all eyes in the saloon turning to him. The cigar that had moments before been tucked between his thick lips had fallen lifelessly to the poker table. 

"Where the hell did she get that horse?" Hosea asked, gesturing toward the fine grey stallion whose back you now sat proudly upon. 

"You shoulda seen her, Hosea…" Arthur sighs, running a hand through his thick hair as he recalls the events of the day to the older man. 

~~~

“Arthur.” 

His gaze doesn’t lift from his cards as you set another whiskey down beside him, an excuse to approach him at the table with the other men. Ignoring your first call, you elbow him briskly in the ribs. He huffs, his dark brow furrowing in irritation at your pestering. 

“Arthur, I want that horse.” You whisper pointedly, nuzzling his roughly stubbled cheek to lean close to his ear. The men at the table look away, thinking it an intimate moment between husband and wife. His familiar scent of whiskey and warm leather fills you with comfort and you silently enjoy the moment of being this close to him. 

Arthur lifts his gaze to the stunning silver horse hitched outside the bar, it’s long legs and lean muscle glistening in the shining sun. A sharply dressed man in a top hat has dismounted and tethered it to one of the elegantly crafted wrought iron posts just outside the main entrance. 

He snorts, turning his attention back to his cards. “You’d never make it out of Saint Denis.” 

“Arthur, that’s a Turkoman. They’re bred for racing across Saudi deserts. They’ll never catch me.” 

This catches his attention. He raises an eyebrow at you slightly. “How do you know that?” 

“I’ll meet you back at camp.” You whisper, leaning so close your lips tickle the shell of his ear. You don’t miss the way his spine stiffens at the teasing contact, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. You smile to yourself, hesitating for a moment before pulling back any farther, considering the power you hold in this moment. You thoroughly enjoy teasing Arthur whenever you get the chance, joyfully crossing his carefully set boundaries any time the opportunity presented itself. You decide to really sell it to the men at the table, enjoying getting in the extra jab at him.

When you plant a warm kiss on the corner of his mouth, he huffs in surprise. “I love you darling, I’ll see you at home.” You purr, beaming at him with hooded eyes. He merely grunts in response, ducking his head low under his hat to cover the flushing of his cheeks. 

"You have a fine wife, Mr. Kilgore." You hear as you walk away from the table, letting your hips sway for added impact.

"If my wife adored me so..." Another chuckled. 

Arthur only hums as he watches you make your way toward the door. His chest tightens as he watches you approach the horse and the surrounding men. He looks them over carefully, waiting to see how they will react. Maybe you'll convince one to take you for a ride, and then rob him blind as soon as you reach the city limits. You immediately turn your charms on the men, fawning over the noble steed. He smiles to himself, watching you work your feminine wiles. He loses the hand, too busy keeping an eye on you to read the expressions of his opponents. After several minutes, when all backs are turned, you seize your moment. Quickly, you tug a single strap just behind the steed’s front legs, releasing the saddle’s girth. Summoning your strength, you push the heavy, gaudy saddle from the horse’s back. 

It would slow her down. It's bulky and flashy. Clever... He thinks to himself as he watches her in awe. He pushes his chair back slowly, absent-mindedly throwing some coins onto the table to cover his debt as he stands, his eyes never leaving you. The scene unfolds before him almost in slow motion. The horse rears onto it's back legs, front feet striking out wildly, startled by your sudden movements, it's eyes wide with fear. The people back away at once, but you stand unshaken, unphased by the beast's outburst. With a firm hand on the reins, you jerk it back down. After a heart-pounding moment, the snorting steed begins it's descent back to the ground. Before it's feet can touch the paved city street, you grasp a handful of mane at the beast's powerful shoulders and launch yourself with a well-practiced swing onto the horse’s bare back. 

~~~

“I ain’t never seen a woman ride like that.” Arthur said after a long moment, disbelief in his voice as he recalled how you’d bent flat against the stud’s extended neck, digging your heels fiercely into it’s sleek flanks, skirts and hair flying wildly as you urged the stud into a neck-breaking pace. 

“Hah! Hah! Hah!” You'd cried, huffing into the animal’s ears, encouraging it to lengthen it’s already enormous stride. The stud’s ears pinned back flat against its head, it’s eyes bulging slightly as it moved impossibly faster, flying through the humid swamp air, it’s graceful hooves barely touching the ground as you turned the bend, dragging his heart along with you. The sharp crack of a rifle had shaken him from his dumbfounded state as he'd stared after you. He'd rushed to his horse and taken off after you to make sure you didn't get yourself shot. He'd been left choking on your dust, but the smile you'd aimed at him when he’d arrived in camp had doused every ounce of his anger. 

“You gotta ride it like you stole it, Arthur Morgan.” You grin at him as you approach him on your new steed, it's sweaty flanks still rising and falling rapidly beneath you from the sprint. 

"How come I'm always your husband when you start trouble? Why can't you pick on John for a day?" He grumbles, tossing his cigarette to the ground, the slight twinkle in his eyes letting you know that he's not terribly upset with you. 

"I can dream, Arthur." You beam at him, thoroughly enjoying the blush that flushes his cheeks as he ducks his head, mumbling to himself about "No-good cowgirls" as he turns his horse away.


End file.
